


A Reason for Every Action

by lucdarling



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: M/M, migraines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-03
Updated: 2012-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-30 13:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/pseuds/lucdarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson is often seen doing paperwork and it's not always his. Tony decides to dig a little deeper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Reason for Every Action

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written anonymously for [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/1854.html?thread=796990#t796990) on November 19, 2011.

“Are you always doing paperwork?” Tony inquired of Coulson. “Do you even know how to do anything else?” He dropped down next to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent on the couch and peered over his shoulder. “Hey, hang on a minute!” He snatched the form out of Coulson's hands, leaving a smear of ink across the page and brought it up to his face. The codename at the top is very clearly _Hawkeye_ and not whatever Coulson had been assigned. If he even had one; Tony doubted it unless it was something like _The Nanny_ or _Avengers' Liaison_ , which everyone knew was double-speak for babysitter.

Coulson plucked the paper neatly from his grease-stained fingers and set it back in the file as Tony protested that the agent was filling out Clint's paperwork and not Clint himself. “You know, you shouldn't be giving special treatment just because the two of you are bumping uglies now.” He leered and Coulson leveled a look at him, shutting the file.

“There is no special treatment, I assure you. Should you ever be injured – highly unlikely since you fight in the Iron Man armor – I would take on your resulting paperwork.”

Tony stared. “No special treatment? You expect me to believe that?” He said incredulously. “Clint was perfectly fine this morning. He's the epitome of health!”

“No, Clint was certainly not, but I wouldn't expect you to understand, wrapped up in your own head as you were at this morning's debriefing.” Coulson's tone was sharper than normal. He tucked the file under one arm and stood from the couch, heading to the hallway with brisk steps. Tony waved him away dismissively, but resolved to keep a closer eye on his teammate. Something wasn't adding up and Tony aimed to figure out what.

The following weeks were a study of the movements of the marksman. Clint woke up early, worked out, showered and spent more time than Tony felt was necessary at the range before dinner and bed. (Though it was a memorable day when Tony hit the bullseye with a loaned gun and forced the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to lose their betting pool that was in the four digits; Tony went to sleep that night with favors to be called in later.) The routine hardly varied except for the hours Clint puts in at the gym instead of the range. There are a few morning debriefings that the marksman misses but Tony chalked it up to the side-missions he and Natasha are still routinely sent on.

Tony sat at the kitchen table as Clint looked over the morning's paper one morning, coffee mug clutched in one hand. “Can I help you with something?” Tony tried to look innocent as he sipped at his own liquid gold; he's not sure he succeeded. Clint gave him a look and Tony's pretty sure he must have taken lessons from his lover because it's far too similar to Coulson's. “You've been following me around like a lost puppy the past few weeks. What do you want, Stark?”

“I want to know why Coulson does your paperwork.” Tony's seen the older agent scrawl neat notes about trajectory and sight angles when Clint has disappeared to parts unknown. “Do you think if I asked Nick to go steady he'd give me the same benefit?” The words made Clint choke on a mouthful of coffee and Tony smiled victoriously.

Clint set the paper down and stood. “Fury has taste, you definitely wouldn't cut it.” The marksman retorted, setting his empty mug in the sink. “Phil just likes my ass.” Clint continued as he left the room, smug look on his features. Tony wondered why they were being so secretive, since it was an open secret amongst the Initiative that he and Coulson are sleeping together.

He got his answer a month later when he comes across Agent Coulson pulling ice packs from the freezer early one morning. “Sorry, I must have missed the memo that said you'd moved into the tower.” Tony greeted, strolling into the kitchen.

“If I had, I would have been halfway through last season of Supernanny,” Coulson replied. Tony wrapped his hands around his coffee to hide the involuntary twitch. “Debrief in the conference room in ten minutes,” he told the billionaire before leaving, ice packs held in one hand.

The superheroes took their seats at the large table. Tony looked around and yeah, there's only five of them. He knew Clint returned from his mission late last night so it didn't make sense.

“Where's Hawkeye?” Tony wondered aloud. “I know he got in last night but that's no excuse for missing a debriefing. If I have to be here, so does he.”

“He's already given me his report,” Coulson replied.

“Yeah, I'll bet.” Tony leered, making an exaggerated kissy face. He stopped, wincing when Natasha's foot connected with his shin a moment later.

“Let's continue,” Coulson replied, not even looking up from his papers. “Mr Stark, I would like a word with you after we finish.” Natasha's mouth thinned at the words but she didn't say anything as Coulson started the debriefing.

Tony stared as Coulson takes the chair next to him after everyone has left the room. “What I am about to tell you doesn't leave this room.” The agent started, brown eyes serious. Tony shook his head. “What do you think the effects are of concentrating everything in you, the entire fiber of your being, to focus on a target for upwards of sixty hours? Think about how exhausted you are, Mr Stark, after your binges in the lab.”

The billionaire cracked a smile. “So he's just sleeping off the exhaustion, lucky for him he has such an understanding boyfriend.” Coulson's lips twitched, Tony was sure of it. His next words sobered the lighthearted mood.

“He's sleeping off yet another migraine,” Coulson corrected. “Our superiors,” his mouth twisted in distaste, “expect nothing but the best. The fact that Clint gets them is a well-guarded secret that goes no further than this room.”

“So Fury's an ass, I could have told you that for free.” Tony responds, not understanding how the words translated to the grave expression on the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent's face.

“No, it's the few people above Fury.” Tony was stunned into momentary silence. “They'll take any excuse to get rid of Clint with all the black marks on his record.”

“I can only imagine what my file says,” the other man interjected.

“Money buys you quite a bit of leeway, if you hadn't realized that by now.” Coulson stood smoothly. “One word of this conversation and I'll know of it, I assure you.” He stared hard at Tony, who nodded in acquiescence, and left the room.

If Tony was slightly kinder when Clint returned from his next mission, no one mentioned it.


End file.
